When Bill sucked the chocolate sauce off her toes, Tonks' hair burst into brilliant mocha streamers that cascaded over her shoulders like wine from a fountain, and he, entranced, laid kisses up her body, following the strands.

"Like you . . . this way—keep it long?"

"Impractical."

Bill's fingers traveled up Tonks' hips to meet in the valley of her belly and rest there, teasingly still. "But I'd like you to keep it this way, love."

"Love," he says. He'd like me better blonde, Tonks thought, not that Bill's preference mattered to her at the moment. "No. Now kiss me again."

"Yes. Always."

9. For ragdoll, whose prompt was "Bill/Tonks/Charlie music dark dragons."

The Detour (NC-17; Bill/Tonks/Charlie; 100 words)

The dark music of the dragons as they mated was intoxicating, and Tonks wasn't surprised when Bill pulled her back into an empty pen and ground his cock against her arse.

She reached an arm up over and behind her head to pull Bill's mouth down to her neck, moving her legs apart to give him better access.

"Slughorn's got the right idea. We should be getting to know one another better," Blaise growled, blocking Ginny's progress from the room.

His voice burnt like a spark against her skin, like ice, and Ginny knew she wanted more of that fire.

Harry never looks at me like this, she thought, leaning into the Slytherin's hands and closing her eyes.

"Open them. Don't think of him," Blaise ordered, rucking up her skirt with one hand and caressing his way toward the lacy edging of her knickers with the other. "I'm the one who's making you feel this way—not him."